


Smokes On You

by RedStarFiction



Series: Yevgeny Chapters [1]
Category: Shameless (US), gallavich - Fandom
Genre: Cute Yevgeny, Dad Life, Domestic Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Domestic Mickey Milkovich, Family, Fluff, Gallavich, Gen, Ian Gallagher Loves Mickey Milkovich, Love, M/M, Shameless
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 07:09:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12053898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedStarFiction/pseuds/RedStarFiction
Summary: A cute bit of fluff surrounding our favourites and Yev. Nothing upsetting or angsty! Just Gallavich love and good vibes for a Sunday night :)





	1. Smokes On You

There are many things that Yevgeny Milkovich knows. He knows about dinosaurs and how they went extinct. He knows the importance of eating vegetables. He knows that you have to look both ways before crossing the street. He knows that if the cops ask you a question about someone, you tell them you don’t know nothing. Today he also learned that smoking is bad for you.

They watched a video about it in class about how it gives you a bad cough and makes your fingers yellow and you can get really sick.

This has concerned Yev quite a bit because both Pop and Dad smoke and actually Mom smokes too but not quite so much as Pop and Dad.

Yev has made a list, he is fond of lists, and on it he has written a list of reasons why they should all quit smoking and drawn pictures of skulls and crossbones at the top of the page just to drive the point home.

 

He sees Dad waiting at the school gate for him, he’s easy to spot because he’s so tall and has a bright green beanie had tugged over his ears against the cold and Yev trots over, dodging past the kids who are a bit more cautious about running in the snow. Dad sees him coming and waves, dipping into a crouch and catching Yev as he deliberately skids the last couple of feet.

 

*

Ian gives Yevgeny a huge hug and spins around once before setting the kid on his feet and holding out his hand to cross the street.

 

“Hey! Good day, buddy?”

 

“Yeah.”

Yev pulls his mitten clad hand away as soon as they are on the other side. He feels like he’s too old for such things now and Pop doesn’t seem too fussed but Dad keeps forgetting … or he says he forgets. Yev isn’t actually sure he believes this.

 

“We watched a video about smoking today.”

 

“Oh yeah? How was that.”

 

Ian lets the little hand go but keeps his hand hovering by Yev’s collar, ready to pull him out of harms way if a cyclist or crack-head pitches into view.

 

“Not good.”

Yev shakes his head gravely and Ian does his best not to smile. Yev is kind of a serious little kid. Basically the opposite of what Carl was like at his age. He is naturally rather reserved and a little shy in new situations which some people mistake for being soft but Ian knows there is a core of steely determination that runs through the kid as surely as he knows where it comes from. 

 

“It’s really bad for you, Dad. I made a list to show you and Pop and Mom too. It says all the reasons you should quit.”

 

Ian glances down at the stubborn set of the sturdy little shoulders, braced beneath his parka in a way that is all too familiar and grimaces.

 

“Ah… Yev, I can’t wait to read your list but I don’t know if … um … well you know, I don’t want you to start smoking, that would suck, but once you start it is really hard to stop …”

 

“Yeah, they said that in the video,”

Yev nods, pleased that Dad is familiar with this already

 

“But Miss Tyler says that we should tell our parents how important it is to try.”

 

Ian thinks that Miss Tyler is probably going to get some really shitty phone calls from parents with enough crap on their plates without adding nagging kids to it, but he nods and tries to look as though he is considering this.

 

Yev’s confidence is a personal crusade for Ian. He never misses an opportunity to make sure Yev knows that his opinions are valid and important. Mickey tends to lack a little patience in that area and gets frustrated quickly when Yev is trying to explain something and can’t quite find the words. He doesn’t tend to get mean about it but sometimes his body language makes Ian want to cringe with how obviously he is wanting Yev to spit whatever it is out and the more obviously irritated Mickey is, the more Yev struggles.

 

With this in mind Ian smiles brightly down at Yev and says

“Why don’t you show me when we get home and I’ll show Pop later?”

 

“No, it’s OK. I’ll show him.”

“Oh, yeah, sure bud. It’s just … you know … Pop might not see quite what it is Miss Tyler is thinking.”

“She thinks he should stop smoking.”

Yev states simply and Ian scrunches his nose, really hoping Yev doesn’t put it that bluntly to Mickey.

*

 

Ian is expecting to have Yev to himself for a bit when they get back but Mickey is already home, the smell of tomato sauce wafting from the kitchen.

“Hey Pop!”

“Hey! How was school?”

“Meh.”

Yev makes a so-so gesture with his hand, dumping his backpack by the kitchen door and helping himself to a soda from the fridge

“You leave that there and I trip over it, I’m not gonna be happy.”

Yev rolls his eyes at Ian conspiratorially but obligingly shoulders the bag

“I’ll be in my room, Dad can you come up and look at my list in a minute?”

“Sure kiddo, 5 minutes though? Need to talk to Pop real quick.”

Mickey’s eyes flick toward Ian over the top of Yev’s head and as the sound of Yev’s winter boots clomping up the stairs fade, he rinses his fingers and dries them on his jeans before turning to Ian.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing major. Yev has something he wants to talk to you about and I would like it if you tried to be … open to his thoughts.”

“Okay.”

Mickey wrinkled his nose slightly, amused

“Is this about the quad bike for Christmas again? Cause that ain’t happening. Even if we could afford it, Svetlana would kill me.”

“No, it’s … they were talking about smoking at school.”

“Fuck!”

Mickey’s eyes widened.

“Is he smokin’ already? I knew my packets were goin’ down fuckin’ quicker than usual. I thought it was Iggy. Shit. I already fuckin’ shredded his favourite porn mag. Woops!”

Mickey laughed and turned back to the bubbling sauce, stirring it gently.

“Don’t worry, man. I’m not gonna yell at him, but he ain’t gettin’ hooked til he can pay for his own habit.”

“No! They made them watch this video …”

“Here, try this…”

Mickey interrupted turning back to Ian with a spoon of sauce and held it up for him to taste.

“Damn! That’s really good!”

“Yeah? Thanks. I used actual oregano this time instead of Joey’s pot. Fuck! That was a pasta to remember … or not.”

Mickey grinned, tiptoeing to kiss away a stray spot of sauce from the corner of Ian’s mouth before turning back to the stove.

“Ha! Yeah I remember … sort of. Anyway, they watched this video and Yev’s teacher said the kids should try and get their parents to quit smoking.”

Ian pushed the words out before he could get distracted by Mickey’s kiss and the way the muscles of his forearms moved as he shook a little more pepper into the sauce, the sleeves of his navy sweater pushed up.

“Oh shit! Svet is gonna hate that!”

Mickey sounds positively gleeful at the thought of it and Ian barely resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“He’s going to ask us too.”

“What? Get the fuck out! Yev is little but he ain’t stupid.”

Ian folded his arms and let out an impatient exhalation through his nose

“This means a lot to him, Mickey.”

“Oh Jesus … Listen, he’s eight. Everything means a lot to him and then the next thing comes along and he forgets about whatever the first thing was. He’s like a fuckin’ tiny version of Frank.”

Mickey grinned and took the pan off the stove, covering it with a mismatched lid that he balanced with practised skill.

“Will you at least here him out without being an asshole?”

“Hey!”

“Well, I mean, look, you get kinda frustrated with these things…”

Ian ran his hands lightly down his boyfriends arms, enjoying the feel of the soft dark hair against his palms before catching Mickey’s fingers and twining them with his own.

“Yeah but I don’t get frustrated with Yev specifically, it’s just kids take forever to fuckin’ say anything.”

“To him it’s one and the same.”

Ian cajoled and glanced at his watch

“I told him I’d be five minutes, I need to go up.”

He smiled and kissed the tip of Mickey’s nose.

“Just try and look like you’re thinking about it.”

“Fine.”

Mickey tweaked Ian’s chin between his thumb and forefinger affectionately and smiled

“Dinner in fifteen.”

*

Yev set out his materials with the meticulousness that he had seen Dad use on pretty much any project they did together. Pop tended to just get stuck in and that was fine but Yev did enjoy the thorough attention to detail that Dad had, whether it was setting out glitter glue or cooking Smores.

 

Yev answered the knock on the door with a formal ‘Come in’ that he heard teachers at school use and liked because it sounded grown up and in charge, and greeted Dad with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Wow! This looks professional!”

Yev fought back a grin by biting the inside of his lower lip, pleased with the compliment and nodded to his bed

“Have a seat, Dad.”

Ian obligingly sat on the bed, his posture straight and attentive. Yevgeny sat beside him and picked up his list and the laser pointer he got from Uncle Lip when they went to see him at his college. He cleared his throat, took a breath and looked up at Ian with huge, earnest blue eyes.

“This is a list of reasons why smoking is bad and why you should quit.”

Ian felt his lip tremble and covered a laugh with a cough as convincingly as he was able to. Damn! The little boy was so very like Mickey sometimes! He just set out exactly what he wanted, no preamble, no wasted words. Maybe to Mickey it felt like Yev took forever to say anything but by normal kid standards, Yevgeny was as stoic as his Pop.

 

“See! You already have a cough. You could get rotten teeth and gross fingers and you could get sick and die.”

Yev shone the little green laser dot at each of these points in turn and then aimed it at the carefully drawn tombstone. Ian noticed that this tombstone said ‘Ian’ but that two others beside it said ‘Mickey’ and ‘Svet’ respectively just to really prove the point. 

 

“Sure but a lot of people smoke for a long time and never get sick. It’s kind of a lottery.”

Ian shrugged and then quickly added

“Not that you should risk it.”

 

“So you’ll quit?”

Yev asked, beaming at his Dad, thrilled with just how well it was going.

 

“Well I guess I could cut down …”

 

Yev shook his head and frowned

“Nah, you need to quit, Dad.”

 

He pointed the light at the line which said ‘Smoking hurts your lungs.’ and then shone it at Ian’s chest.

“Do your lungs hurt yet?”

 

“No.”

“Well they will. If you get sore lungs it’s gonna suck.”

Slim black eyebrows came together and rose up Yevgeny’s forehead as his lips formed a knowing pout and Ian realised he was sunk.

 

“Yeah well …”

He tried to think of something, anything really because he did not want the hassle of nicotine withdrawals, not with practically every other adult he knew sparking up around him! But Yevgeny was giving it every ounce of Milkovich persuasion he had and Ian just didn’t have the heart to say no. He could hardly ever say no to that face.

 

It was how they ended up having jello for breakfast sometimes.

It was why Ian’s favourite Simpson’s shirt was now Yevgeny’s favourite Simpson’s shirt.

It was what caused Ian to once need to explain to Svetlana why her son came home an under-shave haircut that increased his paternal resemblance no end when he only went for a trim.

 

Ian sighed.

It was also why the DVR was full of Mickey’s dirt bike shows.

It explained how Mickey’s music was normally on first play in the car

 

Now it was why after over ten years of being a dedicated nicotine addict, Ian was now going to try and quit smoking.

*

 

Ian finished his meeting with his son and was dismissed with a huge hug and a promise that he was doing the right thing, Miss Tyler says so.

 

“Great! Thanks bud.”

Ian forced himself to smile and trudged down the stairs preparing himself for the shit-eating grin he knew was going to greet his news.

 

“Well, I’m fuckin’ quitting smoking.”

 

He announced, dropping into one of the kitchen chairs and throwing his hands up in defeat. Mickey glanced up from plating up the spaghetti and meatballs, one eyebrow raised.

 

“That kid has you almost as whipped as I do.”

 

If the fruit bowl had any fruit in it, Ian would have thrown something at his boyfriend but flipped him off in lieu of it.

“Fuckin’ Milkovichs.”

“Yeah, but you love us.”

Mickey released the shit-eating grin Ian had been waiting for and Ian found himself smiling back despite himself.

“Yeah, God help me, I really do.”


	2. Smokes on You (pt2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uhhh. So I got a little carried away here. I was trying to go for chilled out LOL vibes with Mickey and Yevgeny, but it’s late and I’m tired and I got all the feels about how great M+I are and then this happened … Thanks for reading :) xxx

Yev eyed his Pop over dinner. Unlike Dad, neither Pop or Yev were big on conversation when they were eating, preferring to keep their focus on the plates in front of them. Still there was a little chat about school, the neighbourhood, plans for the holidays.

It was easy to observe someone at dinnertime and Yev peered keenly at his father’s fingers, they weren’t yellow but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be soon!

“You want a photo or something?”

Yev startled as Mickey glanced up and after a second, winked at Yev to let him know he wasn’t really annoyed.

“How’d you know I was looking at you?”

Yevgeny was always impressed by just how much Pop noticed, it was as if he had eyes in the back, the top and the sides of his head too. Sometimes Yev tried to sneak things past him just for the fun of seeing how far he could get.

“I’m your Pop, it’s my job to know what you’re up to.”

Mickey grinned and nodded to Yev’s bowl.

“You don’t like your food?”

“Yeah but … um … can you taste yours? Cause smokin’ kills taste buds.”

“I can taste it just fine. Watch…”

Mickey fixed his son with a firm eye and then stuffed an entire meatball into his mouth in illustration.

“Mmmmm! Beefy”

Mickey chewed with exaggerated enjoyment and Yev giggled despite himself and speared his own huge meatball on his fork.

“Yev, don’t. You’ll choke.”

Ian reached across the table and put a gentle hand on the boys arm to stop him copying his father. Mickey covered his mouth with one hand and hunched down, trying to work through the whole thing without gagging. He managed to force the majority of it down his throat and thumped his chest, a little flushed in the face.

“Mother f..ow! Man, that was dumb!”

Mickey croaked. Ian gave him a look of complete agreement and turned to Yev

“Could you get Pop a glass of water please, Yev?”

Once Yev was out of earshot Ian grinned at his boyfriend

“You never choke like that on my balls.”

“Yours are smaller, fuckhead.”

Mickey laughed, grimacing at the ache in his throat

Yev came back into the room and Mickey took the drink he offered, gratefully clapping Yev on the shoulder, a small act which made the little boy beam with pride.

“Thank you, kiddo. Go ahead and finish your food.”

Instead of sitting back down, Yev loitered a minuet, leaning against his Pop with one small elbow propped on a broad shoulder shoulder.

“You know, smoking is bad for the throat too.”

“Nah. I haven’t choked on a cigarette since I was … eighteen and started smoking which was stupid of me.”

Mickey’s gaze flicked to Ian as he spoke. It had taken all of Ian’s persuasion and some very dexterous work with his fingers to get Mickey to agree to fib to Yevgeny about when and how he picked up some of his habits and to flat out not tell him about others.

“It’s okay to stop any time, Pop! Miss Tyler says it’s never too late!”

“Didn’t you learn anything else today? Why are you fussing about this?”

Mickey asked, half turning to glance at him, there was no heat to his words and Yev shrugged openly

“It’s important. Miss Tyler quit last year and she says she never felt better.”

“Yeah? Well Miss Tyler sounds like a know-it-all bit…”

“Bit of a bother.”

Ian interjected quickly. Mickey looked up at the ceiling with an expression that clearly said he also thought Ian was a ‘bit of a bother’. He did not believe in altering the way he spoke around Yevgeny and it irritated him that Ian acted as if the kid would crumble if he heard a bad word cause when Ian wasn’t there, Yevgeny heard plenty of bad words and was fine.

In Mickey’s opinion, the best thing about their little family was that they were all completely free to be themselves. Some of the stuff Yev did made no fuckin’ sense to Mickey at all, like the weird stamp collecting club at school or the obsession with dinosaurs but that was what Yev liked so it was fine. What Mickey liked was swearing, smoking and being with Ian. Yev knew they were gay and was fine with it, but apparently the other two things, things that Mickey had not struggled his most of his life to come to terms with, were now up for debate.

“I have a list …”

“I know you do and I’m sure it’s great, but you also got a half finished plate of food so sit down, eat up and we might talk about it later.”

“Promise?”

“I promise we might talk about it later.”

“Promise you’ll try quitting like Dad is?”

Mickey huffed an irritated breath through his nose and turned to look at his son properly

“I promised we might talk about it. That’s as good as you’re getting. Can you go and sit down already?”

Mickey spoke with finality that made most people think twice and patted the seat of Yev’s pants urging him toward his chair; but Yevgeny was clearly not remotely worried about either thing and stayed put.

“But Pop …”

Ian saw Mickey’s eyes widen, blinking slowly once, a sure sign of his patience truly slipping and intervened.

“Yev.”

Ian inclined his head toward the seat and Yev grudgingly sat himself down but both his fathers saw the way his tongue nudged defiantly at the corner of his mouth.

*He’s definitely your kid!*

*But he got that attitude from you, Freckles*

These thoughts were conveyed between them with a single look over the top of Yevgeny’s head in that peculiar manner that couples who have been deeply attuned to each other for a long while have and both men looked away smiling.

*

Mickey excused himself and stepped out onto the porch while Ian and Yev washed and dried the dishes. He cupped his hands around the lighter and sparked up contentedly.

He could hear Yevgeny’s happy chatter and for a moment he felt a little hurt as Yev tended to be a bit quieter around him. Ian said it was just that he was a quieter person and so Yevgeny responded in kind – that the kid was just parroting Mickey, trying to be more like him, but Mickey wasn’t so sure.

Ian just had such a natural way with him; he managed to make everything into a game or an adventure. Mickey didn’t have that kind of imagination really. When Yev was five and had an imaginary friend, Ian always remembered to put out an extra Eggo waffle and to make sure Yev was holding ‘Patrick’s hand when they crossed the street so he wouldn’t get left behind.

Mickey couldn’t get his head around it at all. He tried to play along but would forget which side Patrick was stood on and ‘step on him’ and even once joked with Yev that they’d left Patrick on the bus which caused a meltdown so extreme Mickey had fleetingly considered handing Yevgeny over to the nearest nice looking lady and just running away.

Now that Yev was a little older things had evened out a bit and Mickey found himself doing more and more of the actual stuff that parents were supposed to do and it was getting easier to join in with the things that interested him. Even the damn stamp collection, weird and pointless as it was, Mickey could help him search the yard sales and stick the findings in his book.

Of course the downside of that was that as the kid got bigger he also took an interest in more of the things that Mickey did – like smoking. Mickey looked down at the cigarette in his hand and sighed. He fuckin’ loved smoking. The first morning drag as he waited for coffee to brew … watching smoke curl out of Ian’s lip after a good fuck … the smell of tobacco on his clothes. Mickey loved all that stuff and he really didn’t want to have to give it up. If Ian hadn’t folded like a wet paper towel then Mickey could have stood firm and not felt like a dick but Yev had been so excited that he’d talked him round … Mickey took another long pull and closed his eyes in bliss.

He would never had dared to try and bitch Terry into quitting cigarettes as a kid or as an adult for that matter. The thought alone made Mickey grin with a grim suicidal humour.

On the other hand, Yevgeny was not afraid of him and that was something that Mickey was both surprised by and incredibly happy about.

Sometimes, like when Yev dug his heels in about stuff, Mickey thought the boy could probably do with being maybe a little less certain about his ability to hold his temper but even as the thought crossed his mind, Mickey knew he didn’t really mean it. He seldom yelled and he never hit him and that was something Mickey was actually pretty proud to be able to say.

When Yev was about six Mickey had seen Svet spank him for some shit … Mickey couldn’t remember what now. Mickey hadn’t massively minded, she was Yev’s Mom and she treated him far better than a lot of mother’s he had seen in South Side, so Mickey had simply stood back and let her handle the kid, but it wasn’t something Mickey had ever done, nor something he would ever do. Svet teased him that he was too soft but Mickey didn’t mind that. Better to be that way than like his own Dad.

Mickey couldn’t remember a time that he hadn’t been afraid of Terry. Even when Terry had taken his side over stuff, fights at school or run-ins with the law, Mickey had always been on edge, waiting for the mood to turn, waiting for a blow or a kick.

The front door creaked open and Ian leant against the doorframe, his body framed in soft yellow light from the house.

“You OK out here?”

“Yeah – didn’t want to light up in front of you.”

Mickey lifted the cigarette in illustration and Ian’s smile widened.

“Thank you but can I get a taste?”

“Seriously? Even I could manage two fuckin’ hours, Ian.”

“I said a taste, not a drag.”

Ian smirked and stepped outside letting the door close softly behind him.

“You should get a jacket.”

Mickey murmured, grinding the butt of the smoke under his boot heel. The embers hissed in the snow for a second and then fell silent.

“Why? I got you.”

Ian’s arms were prickled with goosebumps as they wrapped around Mickey but his lips were warm and he tasted of vanilla cream and cinnamon.

Mickey uncurled his scarf from around his neck and draped it over Ian’s shoulders, licking the taste of vanilla from his lower lip.

“How was that?”

“I didn’t quite catch it, can I try again?”

“Yeah you can try again.”

Mickey smiled, cupping the back of Ian’s head in his palm and trailing his fingers through his hair.

“Mmmm. Damn, Gallagher.”

Ian grinned and ran his thumb over Mickey’s cheek bone.

“You taste fucking amazing.”

“You want one? I won’t snitch.”

“Nah. I said I’d try and I will.”

“You gotta learn to say no to him occasionally.”

Mickey cocked his eyebrow and gently stroked the downy hairs at the nape of Ian’s neck, not ready to let go of him just yet.

“It’s those big blue eyes! He looks at me and I can’t fuckin’ help it.”

“He’s got the same fuckin’ eyes as me, man, and you say no to me all the time.”

“Yeah but he’s not a shit-talkin’ badass like you.”

Mickey grinned and nudged his nose against Ian’s

“You finally admit I’m a badass, huh?”

“When you’re not being a total pussy, yeah.”

Ian murmured, catching Mickey’s earlobe gently between his teeth and biting down softly

“You trying to get me riled up, Gallagher. Push my buttons a little? Get me a little rough with you?”

“Well Svetlana is picking Yev up in an hour and then we have the whole night…”

Ian dropped his left hand to the bulge in Mickey’s pants and squeezed gently, then a little harder.

“Ah fuck!”

Mickey pulled away from Ian’s hand and took a heavy breath

“I forgot Svet had him tonight, I better go look at his fuckin’ list.”

“Might want to give yourself a minute.”

Ian laughed and Mickey snorted

“Yeah. You best go back inside. Tell him I’ll be in in a sec.”

Mickey lit another cigarette and bowed his head and Ian returned his scarf, pausing to kiss him again.

“Later though?”

“Try and fuckin’ stop me, Firecrotch.”

*

Yev gave his Pop the same talk as he gave Dad. He used the list and the laser pointer and showed him the coloured in grave. He’d added some grass and a flower since dinner just to spice it up a bit and Pop nodded along as he spoke. They were sat on Yev’s bed, not all professional like Dad but with their backs against the big T-rex poster and their legs sticking straight out in front, Pops boots hanging over the edge of the little bed so the quilt didn’t get dirty.

“Girls will like you better if you don’t smell all smokey.”

“Why the Hell would I want girls to like me better?”

“Boys then!”

Yev waved his hand impatiently

“I’ve got your Dad, I don’t need anyone else to like how I smell.”

Yev pressed his lips together thinking and then shrugged

“I guess that’s fine. I just don’t want you to get sick.”

“You know old Mrs Henderson, three blocks over? Shitty toffee apples at Halloween?”

“Yeah!”

Yev scrunched his nose remembering and Mickey rolled his head against the wall until he was looking down at him properly.

“She’s ninety-four, smoked every day since she was like, four years old. Never got sick.”

“But you might and then who’s going to make me French toast? Mom’s sucks.”

“Dad would make your toast, listen, you got to remember, most kids around here – they don’t even have one Dad or Pop. You got two! Anything happens to me, you still got your Dad.”

Mickey meant it encouragingly but Yev’s face fell and his little chin started wobbling.

“Hey! Woah!”

Mickey gathered Yev onto his lap and wrapped his arms tightly around him. Yev pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and wiped his nose hastily on the back of his hand, sniffing heavily

“Sorry Pop.”

Mickey frowned and gently took Yev’s snotty hand in his, cleaning it off on his own sleeve.

“You don’t have to be sorry. You wanna cry, you go ahead and cry. That ain’t anything to be ashamed of, Yev.”

“Mama says we have to be stronger than tears.”

Yev sniffed again and Mickey smiled to himself

“I can imagine her saying some weird shit like that. Did she say it in Russian?”

“Yeah.”

Yev gave him a wobbly half-smile and Mickey kissed his forehead lightly

“You know the stuff she says in Russian is mostly old lady voodoo crap, right?”

“Mama says I have to flip you off if you say that anymore.”

“Do it and I’ll bite your finger off.”

Mickey grinned and pretended to tug Yev’s finger toward his mouth finally making the kid laugh.

“That’s better. Now what were the waterworks about, huh?”

Yev shrugged and tucked his head back under Mickey’s chin.

“I don’t want you to die.”

Mickey snorted and sat his son up looking him in the eye

“I ain’t gonna die. In fifty years I’m gonna be some old fart, shufflin’ around in his slippers makin’ you get me French toast for a change.”

“But how do you…”

“You just gotta trust me, Yev.”

Mickey interrupted and that was that.

He picked up Yev’s list and brought it back in front of them.

“One thing though, kid. You have really good writing.”

Yev blushed bashfully and looked up at his father, disappointment already fading

“You really think so?”

“Absolutely. Good spelling too. Though I think ‘cancer’ has two c’s. No s’s. But fuck it, you shouldn’t be writing that word at your age anyway.”

Mickey carefully set the list back on Yev’s desk and scratched the back of his neck, considering for a moment. He knew Yev was a sensitive kid but if all this stuff was making him cry … well Mickey didn’t really give a fuck about Miss Tyler’s crusade.

“You know, maybe I’ll think on the smoking thing a little more. You mind if I keep the list to remind me? I could tape it up in my locker at work, show some of the other guys who smoke maybe? Besides, you don’t wanna be worrying about all this shit.”

Yev considered this for a moment and then nodded.

“I can tell Miss Tyler that Dad is going to try. Do you think that will be OK?”

“I think that’s more than OK, Yev. You did great.”

Mickey smiled and carefully folded the little square of paper, tucking it into his jeans pocket.

“I … uh … I love you, Yevgeny. Proud of you too, you know that right?”

The words came out a little husky, Mickey wasn’t used to saying them when the kid wasn’t on the brink of sleep, tucked up in bed with the darkness of the room letting such sentiments be given freely.

“Yes Pop. Love you too.”

Yev squeezed his arms around Mickey’s chest tightly. Mickey felt the back of his throat begin to sting a little and swallowed, twitching his nose and blinking quickly a few times.

A movement caught his eye and he glanced up to find Ian stood in the doorway watching them with an expression on his face that was so tender Mickey almost couldn’t believe it was aimed toward him, that someone who was capable of looking like that might choose to look at him that way.

“Right! C’mon little man. We need to get you packed for your Mom’s place.”

Mickey said brightly and lifted Yev off of his lap, boosting him into the air and catching him deftly under the armpits and putting him on his feet.

“OK Pop.”

Yev went straight to his toy box and started the painstaking process of selecting his plastic dinosaurs the list already pushed to the back of his mind.

*

The waved Yevgeny off, snow drifting down in lazy gusts around them, until Svetlana’s car rounded the corner and then Ian seized Mickey and kissed him deeply, as though he hadn’t seen him for years and he afraid that he would disappear into thin air unless physically held.

“I love you, Mickey. I love you so fucking much.”

Ian gasped the words against Mickey’s mouth and cupped his face reverently between his hands gazing at him with an almost fierce intensity.

“I love you too. You OK?”

“You are an amazing father. I just want you to know that, OK? You are so much better than you think you are and we are really fucking lucky to have you.”

Mickey snorted a little embarrassed but held Ian’s stare and smiled reaching up to dust a little of the snow from Ian’s fiery mop of hair.

“Thank you. You are too. I’m glad he has you. I … I’m glad I have you.”

Mickey looked around, as if suddenly aware that they were stood on the sidewalk in the middle of a gathering blizzard. Ian shook his head as if finally understanding a puzzle where the answer had been in front of him all along and tipped his head back grinning up at the night sky.

“What?”

“Mickey … Mickey, will you marry me?”

“Huh?”

Ian ran his forefinger across the contracted sweep of Mickey’s eyebrows as they arched sharply upward, lifting sever snowflakes with them.

“Marry me, Mick. I want to be shuffling around with you while Yevgeny makes us French Toast when we’re old and you’re still puffin’ through three Lucky Strike packs a day!”

“Are you serious.?”

Mickey licked his lip and gripped the lapels of Ian’s coat, searching his face for something, his eyes darting back and forth before settling on Ian’s mouth and slowly, carefully trailing up to his eyes.

“I am.”

Ian said simply.

Mickey made a strangled sound at the back of his throat and then he was kissing him just as fiercely as Ian had before, hard enough to leave them both breathless and the faint tang of iron between them.

“Yes, I’ll fuckin’ marry you, Gallagher.”

Ian gripped Mickey’s right hand in his own, the other gripping the back of Mickey’s head as the snow swirled around them, neither of them giving a damn about the cold or the darkness, sheltered as they were in each other and in the love that bound them both together so rightly.


End file.
